Honour
by goldleaves
Summary: Honour can be a hard thing to comprehend. AragornxOC


**Honour**

* * *

Honour:_- Noun - _**1.** honesty, fairness, or integrity in one's beliefs and actions.** 2**. A source of credit or distinction. **3**. high respect, as for worth, merit or rank. **4**. such respect manifested. **5**. high public esteem, fame or glory. **6.** the privilege of being associated with or receiving favour from a respected person or group. **7.** Usually, honors. evidence, as a special ceremony, decoration,scroll, or title, of high rank, dignity, or distinction. **8.** a deferential title of respect. **9. **Chastity or Purity in a woman.

* * *

Honour is such a hard thing to define. To the men of Gondor it is an honour to carry the standard of the White Tree and to have the King of Old back, and to the Rohirrim - honour is the respect gained by proudly riding out to battle and almost certain death under the banner of Rohan and for those that they love, for some women it is being able to give themselves away on their wedding night, and for some women it is being associated, in any way, to someone of great importance.

But to the people of the grey mountain - honour is a very different thing, it is an outward thing, the pride you show and the respect that others give you. The long red hair that is tied up proudly in battle as you fight and the knowledge that you would do anything for your honour.

Aragorn had never really considered honour, he had always thought it as a thing that those who do nothing claim as the reason for their sloth, and he had left it as that and had moved on, his head filled with more important things to learn, and to do.

The last battle, the battle for the freedom of middle-earth, a battle for men, and women and children of all kingdoms and hobbits and of elves and of all creatures great and small - all for their freedom and for their lives.

He was growing weary - his sword stained with layers of Orc blood and many were loosing hope - there were so many - so may dying from both sides however there seemed to be an uncountable force heading towards them and those who had survived one waved were caught up by another and another, there was no sun in the sky- instead there was just blackness, clouds thick and heavy pressing down on them with a horrible force and heat wishing them to submit, wishing them to lose heart and to lay down their weapons and fail and to die, but he stood straighter and continued on.

Up above him there were the Nazgul, the Nazgul and their awful pets, their mounts black and roaring and evil, and they were coming for him, out of the corner of his eye he saw one aim for him and he ducked but when he rose once more, he saw that it was pre-occupied with a great brown shape - The Eagles.

"The eagles are here!" he said, triumphantly, a new hope roaring within his chest, and in answer he saw a figure rise from the back of the eagle, he could not see whom it was and they raised a sword above their head and a triumphant yell echoed from their mouth as they speed towards the Nazgul and their deadly mounts.

As the eagles engaged with the terrifying beasts of slime and evil he watched as the figure dropped from their backs falling through the air like a flower, the sword spinning fast to make silver petals and it landed in front of him, a woman. Her hair long and as red as the sun as it touches the dawn sky, and her eyes were blue and mythical - holding a superior knowledge that he had only ever seen in the elves, but she was no elf - not were the pointed ears she wore but instead the rounded curve of a mortals, and her stature was not one of born grace but of acquired talent in fight - of months preparing to fight this one last great battle for freedom and middle earth.

Her skin was pale, as pale as his own and her clothes were blue, and in the style of the elves but different - they were obviously created by a material rougher and protective but it did not lessen the effect of the elves, in fact it was greater - a more powerful and wise appearance had she as she straightened out of the crouch she had dropped into and as she spun around and walked into battle - her eyes determined and fighting for honour and not glory.

* * *

A gigantic roar filled the sky as the dark clouds were stripped away by a bright white light, and the heavy hot feeling in the air was pushed away by a cold but welcoming wind and the fire of Mount. Doom rose and fell over the side of the great mountain and spilt down the side and the eagles, as well as Gandalf started to fly towards where he knew two very exhausted hobbits were waiting for them, and Aragorn smiled ... it was finally over - Isuldir's Bane was finally destroyed.

He felt a hand clap his back and he heard rather than saw the smiles and relief from his friends Legolas and Gilmi as they celebrated the final part of their journey and their victory, and his eyes caught a flash of red and blue, and he moved his head to see what it was. There across from him stood the woman that he had seen earlier - her red hair proudly on display and her blue dress riddled with small cuts and the stains of blood of those that had fallen under her sword.

But there was something different about her - her eyes were downcast as if expecting a blow, or shamed and her once long red hair lay brutally cut against the back of her head, and a silent tear slid down her cheek and then he felt s surge of curiosity and of pity and of a strange urge to protect her, and as if sensing his eyes boring into her form she looked at him and he saw that they were darker and she looked away her short red hair spinning and she walked to the others of her people anger resounding in every step she took.

He sensed a presence behind him, a friendly and bright presence - one of a companion through the ages, Gandalf - and behind him stood the great eagle lord a young hobbbit stretched over his back,

"Don't stare so at the warriors yonder - give them their space and do not shame her so by looking at her hair - she feels as though her honour has been destroyed do not tempt them to hurt you"

Aragorn looked at him wondering what he meant but Gandalf just smiled, his old eyes glittering despite the weariness and dirt on his face he looked at peace, and he was gone and Aragorn was left wondering what the wise old Istar had meant.

* * *

He stood on the high steps of the court-yard of the white tree there being white flowers on its branches once more, and he looked upon the crowd and he saw that many elves had come to see him crowned, including the one that he thought himself in love with, but as he looked into her eyes he knew that she was just a ghost of what he thought that he wanted, and he saw that she felt the same way.

And he felt relief flood his veins and he did not know why, and he turned his head slightly and his eyes caught the only peoples of middle earth with hair as red as fire and of blood and of the sun, and among those people his eyes sought out one with the shortest hair, her eyes downcast and her lips thinned as if shamed by attending and he watched as white flowers fell onto her hair and she was oblivious, and he hardly felt the crown of his ancestors be placed on his head as he watched her look up and meet his gaze and he saw the pain of which her blue orbs held.

At the feast, the crown - white and silver lying heavily across his brow and he smiled as he saw the cheer on his friends faces and his eyes once more slid to the form of the warrior, her head bowed as those around her avoided her and celebrated seemingly oblivious to her internal distress and shame.

He felt a light hand on his wrist and he turned his eyes so that out of the corner of his vision he could still see the fiery head beauty and also watch the person who sought him out, and Arwen herself noticed this and a small smile lifted the corner of her lips as she gazed upon the man that she had once fooled herself to be in love with, and her eyes shined kindness upon him,

"Good tidings to you, Aragorn"

"And also to you, Arwen of the Fair" he replied bowing his head slightly,

"I see that one of the crowd of warriors has caught your eye ... you must tread softly around her, if indeed you wish to pursue her. You deserve your happiness and so does she, but a veil of despair and shame is wrapped around her heart and it will take time and care and loved for it to be removed - as it must be removed softly with the fingers of a lover.

* * *

A procession of men and women their hair as red as the one that he always watched gracefully, but powerfully walked into the great throne room and exchanging nods he stood and moved into the shadows and he watched as the lady of _her_ people stood in the centre of the dais, he had been sent a message a week earlier asking permission to use his throne room for an important court, and he watched with interest as _she_ walked into the throne room, her red hair pulled severely off her face and wearing a long white tunic with short but white sleeves and a neck in the shape of a 'V' low and long accentuating her form and his eyes roved around her side and down to her legs as they wore a pair of dark black riding trousers so unlike anything that he had ever seen her wear, and he allowed his eyes to travel upwards once more onto her tunic noting the small silver flames stitched into the hems as they flew over her waist and upwards once more until he stopped at the necklace that was situated in the hollow of her breasts - it was a simple one, a single silver-grey pendant the shape of an ordinary pebble but shining with an ethereal light.

He watched as she knelt in front of the dais her head down and as the lady stepped forward touching the end of her hair gently with her soft fingertips and as she spoke,

"We are here to decide what shall happen to Sheená daughter of Sheenneá... as she has been dis-honoured on the field of battle" her voice though quiet flew through the hall and he caught the name of the one that he watched - her name a beauty and able to send a chill through his spine and he felt the urge to feel it on his tongue but he knew it was the wrong time and he clamped his jaw tight as he watched as many stood and spoke in her defence saying that she had honour and his eye-brows creased in confusion - how could one's honour be determined by one's hair? - but he knew better to discredit another's beliefs.

And he watched as the lady, placed her fingers gently upon her face and lifted it before whispering into her ear and he watched as her eyes flickered to his and they caught his and he remained frozen as the lady placed her fingertips once more upon her face and drew a pattern of blue lines around her eyes and upon her cheeks, and once finished with the elaborate pattern the lady stepped away and spoke once more,

"Stand Sheená of the Tathieé tribe of the peoples of the grey mountains - you have honour. Let it be known among our people ... you have honour!" and she stood and turned to face them and he heard a great cheer emit from the other warriors that had once been so silent around her as they ran to her and they embraced her but her eyes never left his and his never left her smiling face, as he noticed the curling blue lines around her face and over her high cheek-bones and around her jaw bone, sometimes venturing onto her cheeks and stopping at the corners of her mouth and venturing into her hairline.

He watched as she followed her lady and the others of her people into the courtyard and he stood there in the shadows and he remembered the way her lips curled into a smile and her eyes shined as she looked at him across the hall and he felt whole - like there had been part of him missing for so long and he had never realised it and now that he did he couldn't imagine how he survived without her.

* * *

That night there was a feast celebrating the arrival of the elders of her people, and from her place in the shadows she could see all that was going on in the magnificent room. She watched as others of her people danced and drank and were many but they held no interest for her ... all she could think about was he ... King Aragorn of Gondor, he was a tall man with mid-length brown hair and brown eyes that seemed to see everything.

She didn't know when he had started watching her - all she could remember is sometimes feeling his eyes on her and she would look up and their gazes would be caught and it would be like time had stopped and then she would turn away not allowing herself to wonder why, but then as the lady whispered in her ear that afternoon she came to realize the truth of her words,

"He is strong-willed and valiant and honourable despite his lack of hair... show him respect and care - for you are destined to be with him and make him from a victorious ranger into the King that is inside him - you are his soul as he is yours and you best put aside your pride and dreams to embrace your fate and reality"

She remember as the lady spoke in her ear, revealing all to her she watched him even while the lady drew on her honour, she watched him and she knew that when he was ready for her she would go to him and they would be happy.

"I have not seen you smile before, Sheená of honour" came a smooth and light voice from behind her, it was the elf - Legolas, but she did not turn around to face him, instead she was content in watching the King as he ate.

"It would have brought me shame to celebrate or mourn without my honour, Legolas of the Fair" she replied softly,

"I do not understand"

"It is our way - those who are dis-honoured, those who loose their hair, can not show emotion towards or about any of the people of the grey mountain, nor can they speak or in any way associate with them"

"That is harsh"

"It is our way"

"But now you smile - does this mean you have honour?"

"No... not my own honour - it means i was dis-honoured in the process of doing something honourable, and that i will continue to be accepted into our society - but it is not my honour, it is the respect and regard of the lady, but it is not my honour... and i can feel that inside me" and without turning she simply stood and walked out, content to seek rest.

* * *

Aragorn could see her from the corner of his eyes and he watched as she spoke with Legolas and he faintly heard what they said and he was both deeply troubled and curious. And he watched as she walked out not looking back and he watched and admired the way that she walked past the Gondorian Ladies who stared at her marking and laughed and he watched entranced at the way her short hair moved across her back and the hem of her dress danced across the floor as she walked out.

* * *

It was dark, and all were in their beds asleep - as he should have been - as it had been a long day and many were exhausted from the feast, but he couldn't sleep, he just kept feeling an urge to sit on a bench and feel the wind on his face, and so grabbing his mantle and wrapping it around his broad shoulders he left his room and headed for the courtyard of the white tree.

Exiting the palace he immediately stopped, sitting on the bench, where he was heading ... was her, she was totally still and silent seemingly staring at one of the small perfectly curved white flowers, and heading forward a strange sense of peace in his heart he picked up one of these fallen flowers and he placed it in her hair as he sat down beside her,

"Hello, my lord" she said - her voice soft and like the wind, quiet and peaceful but constant in its beauty,

"My lady" he replied picking up her hand and brushing his lips gently across its smooth surface, and he continued to hold onto her hand as he looked into her eyes,

"You are beautiful" he said softly,

"Thank you, my lord ... and you look Kingly and majestic" he didn't know how but soon they were close together - faces almost touching, hips connected one of her hands encased in his and the other on his chest as if holding him to her,

"That is a wonderful thing to hear from your lips, as i have not yet accustomed to my stately duties and i guess it is in the best interests of my people that i at least look the part"

"But, my lord, it is because you were missing something"

"What?"

"Me" and he leaned forward releasing her hand so that he could cup her face, and he kissed her, and they were in love, and after months her hair grew back to what he had first seen it as, and he would scrunch his fist up in her hair as he kissed her, and on the day of their wedding many came from many countries, from his and from hers and they were all happy and they lived for many years and their family grew and they were all taught about Honour.

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**The End.**


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